A Question of Faith
by Aphina
Summary: Horatio P.O.V The events of the past few months are catching up with him. After an emotinally draining crime scene, it causes H to consider recent events and question his faith in people and God.
1. Chapter 1: Can't Do Enough

Chapter One

"Please…please don't leave me." Francis's hand gripped mine tightly, the pressure of his fingers boring into my knuckles. I didn't care though. I was willing to do anything right now to remove the pain he was in.

"Don't worry Francis, I won't." I spoke calmly, moving closer to his ridged body, forcing him to keep his eyes solely on me. Anything to avoid his eyes straying to the scaffolding that erupted from his chest.

"Come on Francis, keep your eyes on me." I said as I watched his eyes roam down to the blood seeping from his chest.

"It's hard." He choked, focusing back on me. Blood tainted his lips, some trickled from his mouth.

"I know, I know." I told him sympathetic. No sympathy in the world could make this situation better Francis, but I felt like I had to try, that I had to make up for what he was going through. In the back of my mind I was conscious that this man was dying. Where the hell was rescue? I had to take his mind off the pain he was in right now. I had to make it easier.

"You remember that freak tsunami wave we had a few months back. That sure was a surprise wasn't it Francis? I never expected to see anything like that in my life time." I admitted, studying the muscles and scratched on his hand. I returned my eyes to his with a warm smile. He returned it the best he could. His grip still strong on my hand.

"I was in Vermont with my wife." He told me. I just kept smiling.

"And what were doing in Vermont, Francis?" I asked kindly, leaning forward on my knees towards him. He was lying flat on his back. I'd made sure not to let him move as not to further the injury. Part of me wonders if I should have gone into rescue at times like these. I'd know I could do something in this situation, instead I was reduced to just talking.

"My wife has family around there. Her sister had just had twins. We were going to see them." Francis clenched my hand tighter, struggling to breathe. I moved urgently trying to keep him calm.

"What were they Francis? Boys or girls?" I asked suddenly keeping him off guard. His focus had to be solely on me. He let out a gasp before answering.

"One of each." He rasped. Blood bubbles began to form around his mouth. I knew what this meant; I also knew how bad it was. His lungs were taking in blood. His fingers dug into my hand, pinching it. It was a nothing compared to his. His body began to shudder.

"Now come on Francis, stay with me." I realized he was going into shock. "Francis, look at me, look at me. Come on."

"Horatio?" his voice was barely above a whisper. I leaned in closer to hear his words.

"Yes Francis, what is it?" I asked, sorrow was beginning to edge towards me.

"Tell them…" he broke off and then regained his strength. "Tell them I love them."

The pain must be immense. I felt my jaw clench. This man could not die.

"You can tell them yourself" I reassured him, patting his arm. Whether he believed me or not was another matter. Right now I was putting all my faith in God, and I don't pray often. I sinned once. I committed the worse sin in the bible. I murdered someone. It wasn't unjust, not by my standards at the time. I'd killed the man that had murdered my mother. I was too late to save her, but not too late to punish him. There was no excuse for what I did and every so often I go to church and beg The Lord for his forgiveness. His decision remains to be seen.

"Sir, I need you to move away from him right now. We need to get to the wound and monitor the situation." The fire chief and ambulance crew were standing right behind me now. I looked up at them stonily. I felt cold. Francis was still holding on to my hand.

"Right now Francis, the paramedics and the fire crew are going to take care of you." I told him, the grip on my hand loosened as I thought about his lungs that were probably still filling with blood.

"Horatio…You won't leave me?" he asked me, turning his head slightly and then wincing in pain. I patted his hand.

"I'll be standing right beside you the whole time." Sadness was overcoming me. Francis didn't deserve this. This man worshiped the ground his wife, kids and family walked on. In a way we were similar in that way. Family was the most important thing to us both.

The emergency crew worked long and hard through the night to save Francis Herman's life. I was watching when they loaded his dead body into the ambulance.


	2. Chapter 2: Sitting On The Edge

Chapter Two

Things like this shouldn't happen to people like him. They shouldn't really happen to good people. I knew a lot of good people and a lot of terrible things had happened to them. When I think about how Frances lay dying and bleeding all over his own work place, it makes me wonder how God can let a violent unpredictable felon like Clavo Cruz, live and let his crime go unpunished. Sometimes alone in bed I lay sprawled restlessly in my pastel green sheets thinking about God. My thoughts range from several bases. Sometimes I wonder if God is still punishing me for the crime I committed against my mother's murderer, a life time ago. A lot of things can happen in our lives that can make us question fate to God, depending on which we believe in. A case like this, a man like him, it sometimes makes me wonder if God was testing me.

My day has been anything but normal, just like my life. It's just been full of surprises. From Ray's supposed death to the flight him, and what was left of my family, took to Mexico.

A friend once asked me how can be the Lt of C.S.I.? The question surprised me; I've never stopped and thought about it. What could I say? For a few minutes I went over some of the reasons in my head, not stopping to analyse a single one. I loved the job, I loved the people, and they were my family, my drive. I felt the need to help people; I'd be rendered obsolete if I didn't. Already I felt obsolete. I couldn't save Francis, I couldn't protect him. Yet wasn't it my job to?

Sometimes I wonder if God has some divine plan for me. I've dedicated my whole life to catching criminals, the scum of the earth and God won't grant me even a little bit of peace. I feel wretched, like part of my soul feels like it's been sucked out of me. Part of me refuses to believe in God or the idea that there is any good in the world. Each of us knowingly as a Darkside, it's whether we chose to use it or not is another matter. The criminals we see everyday are an example of that.

I know sometimes I stand on the edge of things. I'm even aware I come across as cold and uncaring sometimes. I'm aware that there are things going on with my family I don't see sometimes. I didn't see the problems Eric was having; I didn't talk to him to find out why he was acting so suspiciously. I've been slipping lately. I didn't realize that his sister Marisol was dying of cancer. I didn't realize that Hagen had been beating on Calleigh for weeks before she told me. The signs were there, but I didn't pick up on them. I didn't see that Speed had been cutting himself to handle the guilt he was feeling over the death of a police officer after the Dispo Day shooting. They all told me after. They said I'd given them the strength to handle things on their own, and when they overcame them they chose to tell me, these personal things to prove how much I'd helped them. I didn't feel like I'd helped them. I felt like I'd failed them that they couldn't come to me with their problems at the time. I didn't know how to make them happy anymore, and that pains me more that you can really imagine.


	3. Chapter 3: Restoring Faith

Chapter Three

Working in C.S.I you have bad days and good days. On a good day, you catch a criminal, help a victim, with no mess. The bad days are like the day Frances Harman was killed, or the day Stewart Otis got out and captured another little girl. On those days, there is no stopping us seeing the case through to the end, even if it ends up with us working days at a time, and living in the lab. We do not close.

I got a surprise today while I was sitting in my office today, something that restored my fate in humanity. A Cuban shopkeeper was injured by a racist with a rocket launcher a few days ago, during which his whole livelihood was destroyed. He was kept in hospital for a few days to monitor the extent of his injuries. During those days I watched as the community of Little Havana helped rebuild Roberto Lopez's shop piece by piece, I watched as Eric, Tripp, Speed and Calleigh aided them clearing the debris. It made me proud seeing my family help out in that way. We never stop helping people, on or off the clock. That's the beauty of my family. They've had a lot of problems, Calleigh in particular with the recent death of her father Kenwell.

They found him dead in his apartment after a heart attack. The circumstances were completely normal, he died a natural death. My protégé has had it rough this year. She's like my own daughter. I hate to see her in pain. She's had a rough time with her dad throughout her life. His death was an unexpected shock. She handled it well considering she had to arrange the funeral and her mother chose not to show up. Yet Calleigh helped add to my restored faith today. She let me into a secret today. My Calleigh was finally going to be happy. She was going to get married. I was surprised it was to a man I actually approved of. Tim Speedle was going to make her a great husband. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen that relationship coming or the proposal she had for me.

Today Calleigh Duquesne asked me to walk her down the aisle.


End file.
